


this is how we met (or at least i think it was)

by mutents



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutents/pseuds/mutents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A question asked in a white corvette causes a break in the universe.</p><p>(Or, dozens of first meetings between two men meant to meet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prelude

"Murdock? Are you still awake?"

"'course I am, Faceman."

"Do you ever wonder what could have happened if... if we hadn't met?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Because, oh Facial One, that thought just brings me down... 'sides, we'll always meet. I don't know how, but we've got lives that are intertwined, bud."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yep. Gramma always said that 'the people who really matter always find a way into your life.' And you, Faceman, really matter."

"I think you're right."

"'course I am, Faceman."

"Murdock?"

"Yeah, Face?"

"You really matter, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just a connection to the summary. It also doubles as a sort of explanation.
> 
> My hope with this collection is to come up with lots of different ways the two could have met. Obviously.
> 
> I'll still be adding to my other collection - [One For The Record](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3854503). This is mainly dedicated to ones that have nothing to do with the show.


	2. the one with a classroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this seems familiar, it's because it was the second chapter in [One For The Record](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3854503). I decided to move it here, because it really fits this one better.
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> Offensive language in regards to mental health  
> Talk of forcible sterilization

"I think it's obvious what we need to do; sterilize 'em!" Randy Hurst was saying, his annoying voice rising in volume.

Templeton looked over at the taller boy in his class, Murdock, and rolled his eyes. It was like this every damn day; the extremely liberal teacher, Mr. Olsen, would try to bring up a topic for discussion with the extremely conservative class. Temp and Murdock were the only two in the class who ever agreed with what the teacher had said, and both had more or less given up on arguing with their peers.

"Mr. Hurst!" Mr. Olsen exclaimed, giving him a scandalized expression. "You can not truly believe that the solution to the increase in mental health issues is forcible sterilization of anyone suffering from such diseases!"

"That's the only solution, Mr. Olsen! We've gotta stop these... freaks from reproducing!" Hurst responded.

Templeton couldn't help but take a loud intake of breath at that comment, and flicked his eyes to Murdock. The boy from Texas was staring at his hands and twiddling his thumbs, obviously trying to ignore what was going on. Temp could tell by the tension in the other boys shoulders that it wasn't working.

It was a well known fact that Murdock suffered from... something. The other guys on the football team said he was autistic and the guys Temp sat with at lunch simply called him a freak. The only two people Murdock ever talked to were Amy Allen and B.A. Baracus, and whenever somebody asked them they got one of two responses; a silent glare from Allen and a growl from Baracus.

"Why don't you shut up, Hurst," Templeton said, not looking away from Murdock. "I'm pretty sure you're about two concussions away from qualifying for the loony bin yourself." Peck gave himself a mental pat on the back when he saw the grin that had spread across Murdock's face.

"Peck! That's it; we're done with today's discussion period. Peck, I want you to stay after class."

The rest of the hour went about as well as expected; Hurst was acting all pissy, Murdock was riveted by what Olsen was saying, and Temp was just trying to stay awake. As the bell rung and everyone else shuffled out, Temp was surprised to see Murdock give him a thumbs up as he walked past.

"Mr. Peck," Mr. Olsen started, standing from his desk and moving to the front of it. Leaning against it, he looked at Temp with a straight face. "I want to say thank you for what you said today. I missed having the two of you argue with the rest of the idiots in the class. When you stopped, it was only a few more days before Murdock did as well. These days, debate hour just ends up being a bunch of people angrily agreeing with each other. At least when you two joined in there was someone trying to enlighten the rest of these guys.

"Anyway, I think you should try talking to Murdock. I think you two would really get along well. Besides, I feel like he could use a few more friends."

Templeton nodded, a serious look on his face.

"Here. Let me get you a pass to your next class," Mr. Olsen said, moving to his the back of his desk and grabbing one of his sheets of paper. Passing the sheet to Templeton, he smiled one last time. "Think about what I said, please?"

"I will."

Temp stood, quickly grabbing the stuff off his desk and rushing out of the room. He didn't need to rush, but here wanted to get out of Olsen's room.

When he reached his locker, he was surprised to see the lanky Murdock leaning against it. "Hey there, Faceman."

"Faceman?" Temp asked, nodding to the locker the boy was leaning against.

"Yep!" The other boy responded, shifting away from the locker. "What can I say; you've got a nice face, man!"

"Thanks?" Temp said, chuckling as he put in his locker combo.

"'course! Do you like comics? 'cause I love comics. Don't know who my favorite superhero is though... Are you busy this weekend? 'cause I've been planning on going to see that new Avengers movie again, and last time I went with Amy and B.A. and - well, Amy's going on a date that night and B.A. hates seeing movies twice. So I was wondering if you'd want to go with me! How's that sound? Would ya?"

Face chuckled loudly at the other guys antics. He'd never had a conversation with the guy, yet he was talking to him like they'd been friends for forever.

"I rather like Black Cat myself," Face said, looking over at Murdock as he slammed his locker shut. The smile the guy gave him was incredible.

"Can't say I'm too surprised - you seem like a kind of smooth operator. So, is that a yes?"

"Sure. It's a date." Face looked up at the taller boy through his eyelashes, hoping he had sensed the other guy right.

If the face-splitting grin was anything to go by, he had hit the nail on the head.


	3. the one with a dog

Temp had always enjoyed this park. It was peaceful, with only the occasional mother and baby and even less animals. The only noise that he could ever hear was the occasional bird cheep, and the even more rare car sound. He often came here on his lunch break, a book in one hand and lunch in the other. The accounting firm was just a subway ride away, and considering his position at the office, he was allowed long lunches.

It was a Thursday when the quiet was broken.

Templeton had settled onto the bench, had his sandwich in one hand and his book, _The Once and Future King_ , in the other. He was just about to take a bite from his sandwich, when a rather large Dalmatian jumped up and snatched it from his hand.

"Hey!" Temp shouted, closing his book and quickly setting it by his bag. The dog hadn't gone far; he'd only circled to the other side of the path and was sitting there and watching Temp. Standing up, Peck moved over towards the dog and knelt in front of him. "I'd ask for my sandwich back, but A) I don't think you'd understand, and B) I really don't want it anymore."

"Billy? Billy!" A male voice with a slight drawl called, his tone sounding frantic. "Where are ya', Billy?" Templeton looked towards the voice, catching the guys eyes as his gaze turned towards Peck. "Ah, damnit Billy... What I tell ya' about eating human food? I'm really sorry Mister...?"

"Peck. Templeton Peck," Temp replied, standing up in front of the guy. He appeared to be slightly older, and was certainly slight taller. He was wearing a ball cap on top of brown hair, the brim just covering up his intelligent brown eyes. Templeton glanced back down at the dog, and saw the same intelligence reflected in his brown gaze. Looking once more up at the owner, Temp realized he'd missed a part of a conversation.

"...So, what do you say?"

"Huh?" Templeton asked, mentally kicking himself for appearing to be an idiot.

"I asked if maybe I could take you to get lunch? Since Billy ate yours?"

"Right. Sure. That would be nice."

As Templeton walked back to grab his book, he felt himself not so annoyed as he should have been. He even could forgive the white dog hair on his suit.


	4. the one without a home

Templeton Peck might have been a rich accountant now, but he still remembered his roots. Every Sunday he went to church, and every Sunday evening he volunteered at the church's soup kitchen. It wasn't exactly like he was needed at home, anyway; Leslie had left him nearly five years ago, and all he ever went home to now was an empty house and an empty bed and an empty heart.

The soup kitchen made it hurt less. After a week of helping the rich stay rich by telling them what to invest in and what was a bad deal, helping out the homeless men and women made Temp hate himself just the slightest bit less.

He knew most of the regulars. There was old Gilly, a woman in her seventies who often told stories about her son's - the eldest was lost in Korea, and the youngest in Vietnam. There was Jerome, an African American man who'd done time in jail after stealing a rich woman's silver in hopes of feeding his son. Sometimes Long would come in - as a boy, he'd spent time in the Japanese Internment camps set up by the U.S.. And there was Betty, a young blonde girl who'd once been the daughter of one of the richest men in California - he'd disowned her after she started dating her husband, but the two never quite managed to make ends meet.

The rest weren't regulars, but that didn't mean they meant any less important to Templeton. Tonight, though, one man really struck Peck. He was only a few years older than Temp was himself. Around his neck he wore dog tags, and his eyes he wore battle scars. When Temp had given him his tray of food, the man had teared up. Maybe that was what stood out to the accountant, or maybe it was the way the man hunched over his tray and looked like he was protecting his life's savings.

Whatever it was, when Temp was given a break by Father O'Malley he went and joined the man with his own tray and two cups of coffee. He set one in front of the vet, and the other he took a sip from. "You looked like you could use something a little stronger than lemonade, and the Father locks up the communion wine."

The man nodded, raising the paper glass to Peck in a mock toast. Peck had to admit that he had been hoping to get a laugh, or a smile at the least. But neither happened.

"Are you new around here?" Peck said, mentally hitting his head against a wall as he spoke. _What a stupid question..._

The man snorted, shaking his head in response.

_Well... At least that's a start._

"What do you think of the soup?"

"It's better than nothing," the man replied, hunching over his bowl a little more.

"If you want, I can get you seconds. I happen to have a bit of a connection."

The man looked up at Templeton in what appeared to be astonishment. "You'd do that?"

"Sure. Well, I can't get you _seconds_ exactly, but if you'd like, I have a very full fridge at home."

The man's eyes narrowed. "And what do you want in return?"

Temp frowned. He hadn't thought about how this line of questioning would sound; the poor man probably thought he was trying to solicit him for sex or something. "Just some friendly conversation, I swear! My wife left me several years ago, and it's a big house..."

The man shrugged. "I ain't got anything better to do. As shocking as that sounds."

Peck let out a bark of laughter. The man was funny, if not a little dry witted. "Well, I still have two hours behind the ladle, but than we can go back to my place."

"Probably shouldn't be saying that so loudly in a Catholic church basement; it's been a while since I went to church, but from what I remember, talk like that can lead to fire and brimstone."

"Well, for what it's worth, so's divorce. I still signed the papers when Leslie sent them."

Temp stood, moving to return to the kitchen. He spared one more glance back at the man, and couldn't help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really kind of like this... Who knows, maybe I'll continue it at sometime. I do want to move my A-Team fic count up to 3!


	5. the one with a child

Templeton Peck had never particularly enjoyed children. Even as one himself, he'd found the other's in the orphanage to be a bother.

Yet, now he was at the zoo with his six year old son, and having the time of his life. It was amazing that what he'd once thought of as his worst mistake had ended up being his best one.

"Daddy... can we go and see the... the... guy-rafts?" Andy asked, looking up at Temp with his big blue eyes.

"Of course we will! I heard there's even one that is always licking the pole in his enclosure..."

"Eww...!" Andy exclaimed, sounding excited in a way that only little boys ever managed.

"Yeah, eww," Templeton said, ruffling his sons hair. As he approached the enclosure, he saw that another man was there with his own child, a little girl of around five who was sitting on her shoulders.

"Daddy... Why does the giraffe lick the pole so much?" The girl asked, swinging her head down so that her light brown pigtails swung.

"Well, it's because in the wild, that's how they eat. They always eat the leaves at the top of the trees; it's how come their necks are so long," the father replied. "Unfortunately, they also have very poor diets - it's one of the down falls of zoos. The pole tastes like salt, and their diets don't have nearly enough. So, they lick the pole to fix their low sodium."

"And soda-ium is salt?"

"So-dee-um, and yes, Bree, it is."

"If it's 'cause they aren't eating right, why don't the zoos feed 'em better?"

"Because it's very hard to replicate their lives in the wild in captivity."

"Oh..."

"Makes sense?"

"What's captivity?"

The father chuckled, reaching up and tugging one of the girls pigtails. By this point, Andy had reached the pen having run ahead. Temp started running as he watched his son climb on the rail of the enclosure. Before Templeton could reach his son though, the other father had grabbed the scruff of his shirt and pulled him back.

"Woah there, slow down cowboy! If you launch yourself to fast, you might become the next creature on display!"

"Thank god!" Peck said, reaching the group and wrapping his arms around Andy. "I saw him running and was terrified he might accidentally fall in!"

"Take it you're his pops?" The man asked, squinting in the sun to see Temp.

"Yeah; I'm Templeton Peck, and this is my son Andrew."

"Henry Matthew Murdock, and the pretty little lady is Briana."

"It's my birthday. I'm six."

"Well Happy Birthday!" Temp exclaimed, reaching up and shaking her hand. "Do you like the animals here?"

"Yep! My favorites are the dolphins; Daddy say's they have the second most developed brain in the animal kingdom, behind us humans of course!"

"It sounds like you're Daddy's a pretty smart guy..."

"He is! He's the smarter-est person on Earth!"

"You mean smartest," Andy said, finally speaking up himself. "Smarter-est isn't a word."

The girl looked down at Henry, who nodded. "He's right, hon."

"Well, maybe we should go and explore the zoo together; it certainly wouldn't hurt to have two groups of eyes watching these two handfuls now, would it?" Temp asked, looking at Henry himself.

The man nodded, seeming to sense Peck's interest. "That would be fun, don't you think, Bree?"

"Yeah! As long as he doesn't keep correcting me..." Bree said, pointing at Andy, causing both of the fathers to laugh.


	6. the one with a coffee shop

Templeton usually didn't use coffee shops; he'd never really been a fan of coffee in the first place. But the downpour had driven Peck into this one, and he had to admit that he was kind of charmed. It had mismatched furniture, and a chalkboard behind the counter with some of the most incredible art Temp had ever seen.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The man behind the counter asked, setting down a well worn copy of _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

"Well, I'm mostly in here to get out of that rain..." Templeton said, gesturing with his thumb to the weather outside.

"Sorry, but you've got to order somethin'. If you don't it's called loitering, and my boss really doesn't like that..."

"Alright... Well, what do like best?"

"I like the hot chocolate myself. We put a little swirl of whip cream on top; makes all the difference. And, it ain't coffee! That's always a plus."

Peck smiled at the older man; his bright attitude was infectious. "Alright, I'll take one of those... and whatever pastry you think is best."

"I like this month's special; we've got some excellent pumpkin and cinnamon cupcakes, and I just finished a fresh dozen."

"Oh, so not only do you read, but you bake as well?"

"What can I say; my grandma always wanted me to be a good husband."

"Well, I'm sure your wife is extremely luckily."

"Unfortunately, my grandma never let me give her my opinion. I kinda got stuck at that 'girls are yucky' phase, if you know what I mean."

Temp felt his face heat up; he knew what the man meant, and he was really glad that the older man had cleared up any questioning on his part.

"Oh, I know _exactly_ what you mean..."


	7. the one with spies

Peck had been under the impression for most of his career that he was the perfect spy. He was charming, handsome, and suave, and -- perhaps most importantly -- an orphan.

That was until he met Logan Ross.

It was supposed to be a simple mission in Moscow -- the kind Peck _craved_. Get in, get out, get gone. That easy.

Of course, his intelligence hadn't mentioned that there might be another spy in his territory.

The man was tall with his hair slicked back. His suit was well fitted, and his smile rough around the edges. It was probably that trait that put Temp off his guard. The other man also had a kind of... forced polish. He didn't seem comfortable in the presence of so many members of high society. It was that trait that pulled Peck to him. Finally, the man was an outrageous flirt -- an even larger one than Peck himself. It was that trait that brought Templeton to his bed.

* * *

When he woke up in the morning with his intel gone along with his wallet, he realized his mistake.

* * *

The thing about being a spy was that you tended to run into each other more than once. While every country has thousands of spies, the ones with certain skill sets end up running along side each other.

So, to say that Templeton was surprised to see Ross in the middle of Helsinki, in a gay bar frequented by Peck's mark would be only a small lie. Unnerved would probably be better.

"You know, Mr. Ross, you owe me a new wallet. That one was snake skin."

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Mr. Bancroft. But, I hate to say, I was simply following orders."

"I'm sure you were," Peck hissed, quickly pulling away from his target as he saw the mark come through the entrance.

He was pulled back to Ross in a second, the taller man's lips against his ear. "How about we make a wager, Mr. Bancroft. First one to seduce the mark gets to find out the others company."

"It's a deal."

* * *

Peck worked for the FBI. And now Ross knew that.

* * *

"We really need to stop meeting each other like this," a voice murmured in Peck's ear, causing him to jump slightly.

This time the city was warmer - Paris in summer. It had been nearly half a year since Templeton had last heard that voice, and he found himself smiling despite his better extincts telling him to flee.

"I couldn't agree more," Peck replied, trying to turn towards the man, but a hand on his shoulder held him in place instead.

"So, what are you doing in Paris this time of year? For some reason, I just can't see you as one of those types intent on hanging out around the Eiffel Tower."

"You're not wrong. Unfortunately, I think you know that I can't tell you... And what about you, Mr. Ross? What are you doing in Paris on such a warm summer night?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was just taking in the sights?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

"What are you drinking?"

"Nothing."

"Would you like to change that?"

* * *

By this time, Peck knew that he'd be waking up alone.

* * *

The city was Hanoi, and it was the only time Peck had been able to sneak up on Ross. He'd spotted him in the streets around dinner time, and had spent an hour tailing the guy. He'd even gone so far as varying his level of subtlety - nothing was noticed by the other spy. Peck knew that it wasn't because his skill level had gotten better - he'd already been at the top of his game when he met Ross, it was just that the other man was better.

No, Ross was...  _off_.

Peck finally confronted the other man in an alley - which he couldn't help but realize was a stupid decision on his part. Ross had him pinned up against a wall in a matter of moments. So much for the man being off his game.

"Hey, hey... It's just me - Richard! Richard Bancroft!"

"God dammit..." The other man muttered, backing off instantly and roughly carding his hand through his hair. For the first time in their acquaintance, Peck heard the other man's real accent. It turned out it wasn't the crisp, and often times cold, East Coast accent that he used most of the time. Instead, his words held a warm, Southern drawl. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"The usual - typical tourist things. Tasting the food, spending time with the locals, admiring the sights... Namely, you."

"Now's not the time for flirtin', ya know? This city... This place'll drain the life from ya..."

"You were here, weren't you? During the war?"

"Yeah... Unfortunately. Ran a few missions... I guess they liked what they saw. Got their hooks in me good, now. I guess one of them had the brilliant idea to send me back."

"What do you need? For a distraction?"

"How about you?"

* * *

Peck woke up the same way he fell asleep - satisfied, and in Murdock's arms.

* * *

"So, we've got a mission that's going to require some inter-agency cooperation. They've got us working with the spooks. Apparently, the one in question specifically requested you, as well - and that's something we'll be discussing when this mission is over."

Peck gave one of his most charming smiles and a shrug as he followed his boss, Hannibal. The man was a brilliant strategist, and Templeton respected him for it.

"Well, you know that I'm all for cooperation..." Peck murmured.

Hannibal simply snorted at the man.

When they reached the conference room, Hannibal waited for Peck to give him a nod before opening the door for him.

Peck smiled slightly when he saw who was in the room. He wasn't terribly surprised to find out that it was Ross - after all, there wasn't really a list of people who could request his help do much as there was a single man.

Standing besides the lanky spy was an oily looking man in a poorly fitting suit, and as introductions were made - with actual names being used - Peck managed to completely miss the other man's.

After all, he was far to focused on Ross' - or, _Murdock's_ as it turned out to be.

* * *

They spent the flight in silence, feeling each other out in a different way than usual.

* * *

Bullets were flying, lodging themselves into the wall inches above Peck's head - far closer than he was comfortable with, really.

"I've got a plan!" Murdock shouted from the right.

"Well, don't just stand there! Share it!"

"Well, before I was just a spy, I was a pilot..."

The pieces were quickly falling into place. There was a helicopter not 100 feet from where they were currently standing, and Peck was definitely willing to make a run for it at this point.

After all, he really hated being shot at.

* * *

As Peck held onto the seat of the chopper for dear life, the sound of a howl rising up over the sound of the bird's blades, he realized that he wasn't the perfect spy. No, Templeton was missing something... Something that Murdock had.

Insanity.


	8. the one with a jet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “we’re the only two people on this stupid shuttle to the airport and we’re stuck in traffic” au

Templeton couldn't help but fidget slightly, as he flipped through the pages of his book. He'd purchased two tickets nearly six months ago, hoping to go with Leslie. But, then she's left him four months ago, and he'd just never bothered to change it. So, there he was on a shuttle to LAX with a ticket to Rome in his hand.

There were only two other people on the shuttle; a large black man wearing chains and the shuttle companies jumpsuit, and a man who was rather obviously a pilot who fidgeting even more than Templeton was. Peck kept his eye on the man, who's closed eyes couldn't hide the tenseness of his body.

As Temp turned his attention back to the book he'd brought, he felt himself jerk forward in his seat, his face bumping into the seat in front of him.

"Christ!" He hissed, pushing himself back, and sighing as he looked out the windshield. He gave another sigh as he saw how many cars were piled up. "Lord," he muttered, sinking back in his seat a screwing his eyes shut.

The sound of fabric brushing together to his right brought his attention to the man who'd now moved across the aisle. "Hiyah," He said, smiling and offering his hand. "H.M. Murdock."

"Templeton Peck," Peck replied, taking the man's hand and giving it a shake.

"Well, it looks like we're both gonna be stuck here for a while, huh?"

Temp nodded his head, not sure what else to say to the man.

"Yeah, this always happens on the Friday flights. Everybody's got tickets to see their relatives, or take second honeymoons - stuff like that. That's why I take the shuttle. It's a pain to find a place to park. That and this is greener."

"Makes sense. So, pilot, right?"

"Yup!" The man replied, nodding enthusiastically. "What gave it away?" Temp chuckled, gesturing towards the pin the man was wearing pinned to his breast. "Oh! That's right! After wearing this nearly every day for as many years as I have it becomes a second skin. So where are you flying today?"

"Rome."

"That's the flight I'm flying today!" Murdock said, smiling. "What takes you to the Eternal City?"

"I bought tickets for my fiance and I about six months ago, but, well... we had a falling out about four months ago, and I never got around to selling them back. So, why waste the money? It's really too bad - she was looking forward to this trip far more than I was. She just couldn't wait to see all of the old cathedrals. She was especially looking forward to the Vatican. Me? I spent way too many years in a Catholic Church to find those places interesting."

"You don't even have to go to the Vatican for the church!" Murdock exclaimed, and Temp couldn't find himself surprised that the man had decided to skip the negative aspects of Peck's statement and go straight to the positive. The man seemed to be an eternal optimist. "I have to admit, I think the Sistine Chapel is kind of lame. I know that's a very unpopular opinion, but I do. But, they do have some amazing artwork."

Peck smiled. "I'll have to take that under advisement. Thank you."

Temp turned his attention back to the road, which he saw had finally started to clear up. "You know, I've really enjoyed talking to you."

"I've enjoyed talking to you, too. Ya' know, my flight back to the states isn't until Monday. Maybe we could get together and see some of the city?"

Temp couldn't help but smile at the hopeful look the man gave him. He nodded. "I'd like that."


End file.
